Beyond the Chocolate War by Robert Cormier

Beyond the Chocolate War by Robert Cormier

Author:Robert Cormier [Cormier, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: Action & Adventure, Fiction, General, Juvenile Fiction, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Cooking & Food, High schools, Schools
ISBN: 9780844671406
Google: iSYKAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0844671401
Publisher: Peter Smith Pub Inc
Published: 1986-01-02T00:00:00+00:00


Problem: finding a brown loafer with slashed instep and a dangling brass buckle among hundreds, hell, thousands of pairs of shoes worn by guys everywhere in Monument. Impossible? But he had to make it seem possible. Had to take action. Make the search. Start somewhere—and the somewhere was Trinity. Then go on from there.

Trinity's dress code was not overly strict. It required students to wear shirts, ties, jackets, and trousers" of no particular color. Banned were sneakers (except during gym classes), boots, and jeans. The most popular footwear on Trinity's campus were loafers and buckled shoes.

Think positively, Obie told himself as he dressed for school, having trouble as usual knotting his tie so that the two ends came out even. He could not allow himself to be pessimistic. With pessimism would come utter futility and desperation. And, finally, defeat. He couldn't let that happen. He felt that his entire life was in danger of collapsing, and he couldn't just stand there and let it happen.

Somewhere, right this minute, some guy in his own home was probably putting on that damaged shoe just as Obie was slipping into his own loafers.

Obie inspected his reflection in the mirror. He looked terrible. Bloodshot eyes. Yellow flecks in the corners of his eyes that always showed up when he was tired. A new colony of acne on his chin. Hair lusterless, like dried grass. As if his body—even his hair, for crying out loud—was giving up, giving in. Something that must not happen, that he couldn't let happen.

He felt like bawling, saw the corners of his mouth drooping. Time for a pep talk, Obie. You've got a clue. Follow it up. Find the shoe and find the kid. Then go on from there. It was better than doing nothing, better than just waiting for Laurie to get back and having nothing to offer her when she did return.

He had mapped out his strategy on awakening. Had decided not to drive his car to school but to take the bus. This would give him access to the other students, on the sidewalks, in the bus, as he searched for the loafer. He hated the thought of riding the bus—have I become that much of a snob?—but knew that the search was more important than driving to school. He would have to mingle with the mob, eyes sharp and probing.

He hurried out of the house, but his steps were those of an old man, legs heavy, feet dragging as if in winter boots. At the bus stop down the street, he stood apart from a cluster of waiting students. They were frisky and impatient in the morning air, stamping their feet, hitting each other with elbows, hips. Obie's eyes went to their shoes. Three lads wore faded, beat-up sneakers: Monument High kids, no dress code at MHS. Some other pairs of shoes; two pairs of loafers, black and brown, with buckles intact; high black boots; two pairs of laced shoes.

Obie felt like a derelict walking through



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